


Angel x Reader Drabbles

by scruffandyarn



Series: Drabbles [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: (And now Lucifer is a softy), (I made Raphael a sweetheart), Action, Angst, Battered Women's Syndrome, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, Fun and Games, Humor, I WILL ADD TAGS AS NEEDED, I keep making Michael a dick, I've got some, Menstruation, More angst, Mr. Belding makes an appearance, Pregnancy, Sabriel - Freeform, Stockholm Syndrome, Twist endings?, Well - Freeform, What am I doing?, Yeah Michael is still a dick, but idk what it would be, but so far, but...-ish?, drunken archangel, dun dun dun, idk why, idk...I tried though, implied angelic reader, ish, more attempts at humor, more humor, not really - Freeform, not really angst, this is ongoing, yes--that's right
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-01 19:11:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 16,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5217464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scruffandyarn/pseuds/scruffandyarn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In trying to get over my writer's block, I posted a list of drabble prompts on angelsxreader.tumblr.com </p><p>These are the prompts requested that I filled (others have been filled by other authors on the blog--you can find those at the blog).  Each one of them is a separate work, but too short to have their own fics here, so this will be ongoing and I will add tags as needed.  </p><p>They will be titled with the prompt (the list of prompts can be found at http://angelsxreader.tumblr.com/drabble-prompts) and the angel requested.</p><p>They are all stand-alone works, so while this is listed as a WIP, you're not going to be left hanging. </p><p>***Please Note***<br/>I try to make the gender of the reader vague, but sometimes, the reader is either hinted at or clearly defined as female.  Most of the prompt-requests have not specified reader-gender, so when it happens, it is me imposing my own gender-identity onto the reader character.  Sorry about that (I'm trying to get better at this).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. “Go on, tell me. Tell me you don’t love me.” (Michael)

Your heart was heavy–even heavier than the suitcase at your feet.

“Go on, tell me. Tell me you don’t love me.” Michael was angry. Angrier than you’d ever seen him. “We both know it’d be a lie.”

You closed your eyes, not bothering to wipe away the tears that slid down your cheeks. “I don’t love what you’ve become.”

That much was truth. It had been so easy to fall in love with the archangel. At first, he’d needed you, needed a place to hide and heal. But once his injuries were gone, he’d stuck around. And each day with him found you falling for him more and more.

But then, talks of restarting the Apocalypse came. He was devoted to his Father, devoted to whatever prophecy He’d left behind. Or maybe, ‘obsessed’ would be a better word for his behavior. Nothing was going to stand in the way of releasing Lucifer from the cage and starting the ‘End Of Days’ all over again.

Of course, he’d promised to keep you safe. He loved you and he’d said he’d rather die than to see any harm come to you. 

But that wasn’t what you wanted. All those lives? All that destruction? You’d tried for months to convince him not to go through with it. To leave well-enough alone. To just stay and be happy with you. 

He would forever remain stuck on the path his Father had laid out for him.

“I can’t sit back and watch you destroy everything and everyone, Michael.” You picked up your suitcase and turned towards the door. “I just hope, when all this is over, and you’re looking down on all the lives you’ve taken–mine included–because, believe me, I will fight you on this. I just hope you can be happy with what you’ve done.”


	2. “Blood. Blood everywhere.” (Lucifer)

“______!”

Something was going on upstairs. You weren’t sure what it was, just that you’d sent your husband up to check on the kids. It had been strangely quiet for several minutes, broken by the sound of your husband calling your name. And he sounded panicked.

You ran up the steps and collided into him, narrowly missing falling back down thanks to him grabbing you and holding you up.

“Luce? What’s wrong?”

He swallowed. “Blood.” He shivered, completely unnerved. “Blood everywhere.”

“What?” You looked past him, but nothing was in the hallway to be concerned about. “Where?”

He didn’t respond verbally, just pointed towards the kids’ shared bathroom. 

Your stomach was suddenly in knots. What had him so freaked? Was one of the kids hurt? Surely he would have used his angel grace, tattered though it was, to heal them if that had been the case.

You took his hand and the two of you walked towards the bathroom. What startled you was the fact that he refused to go into the bathroom. In fact, he stood resolutely, about three feet away from the door. Nervously, you continued on and poked your head inside.

“Dad! You’re not–oh, Mom.” You were rushed by your eldest daughter, who clung to your waist. From what you could tell, she was crying.

“Baby, what’s going on?” You pried her from you so you could look her over, make sure she was alright.

“I–I–I started my period!” Now she was sobbing. “It’s a–a–all over my sheets and m–m–my clothes and…” She wrapped her arms around you once more.

“Hey,” you cooed, trying to soothe her. After a few minutes, she was finally calm enough that you tried again. “Sweetheart, I know just the thing. A nice warm shower for you, while I put a little hydrogen peroxide on your sheets and clothes. We’ll get all that cleaned up in no time. And I’ll send your dad out to get some chocolate ice cream, OK?”

“OK.” She sniffled.

***

When Lucifer came back with three different kinds of ice cream, you couldn’t contain the laughter that you’d been stifling since you’d realized what all the fuss was about. Your prince of darkness, the angel who’d once had the legions of Hell at his disposal, was terrified of his daughter getting her menstrual cycle.


	3. “Is… is that even possible? Like, can we do this?” (Raphael)

“Open your eyes.”

“Five more minutes, Mom.” You curled into a ball, trying to cling to the last vestiges of sleep.

“______.” The tone had a hint of humor, but you couldn’t readily place it.

Groaning, you pushed yourself up from the most comfortable mattress you’d ever slept in. Except…when had you fallen asleep?

Your eyes shot open and you immediately began yanking at your clothes, trying to get to your stomach. It should be hurting right now, if your last waking memory was correct and you’d taken a bullet there. But no. The skin was completely unmarred. And your clothes–you’d never worn silk a day in your life. How the hell…

“Heaven, actually.”

Now that you were awake, you knew who that voice belonged to. “Raphael!”

The angel materialized in front of you, chagrin clear. “Welcome to Heaven, ______.” 

“What happened? Why am I here?”

“Death happened. You were struck down by a bullet to your abdomen.”

“Oh.” So you hadn’t dreamed that up.

“The Winchesters were unable to revive you.” A definite sneer.

You stood and stepped closer. “Hey. Not their fault. I was probably doing something stupid and reckless.”

“You do have that tendency.” He responded with a nod. “Still, they were charged with keeping you safe.”

“No one is at fault here. Except maybe whoever was pulling the trigger.” You shrugged.

“That–being–is now in Hell.” Anger radiated off of him.

You reached down and took his hand in yours. “I’m OK now. I’m in Heaven, for crying out loud. Not much better than this.” You smiled, hoping he’d relax a little.

“I–I regret that I was unable to be the one to bring your soul here.” He was still frowning. “Such a peculiar emotion, regret.”

“Well, you’re here now. Only…” you looked around the room you were in was nice…really nice. Just, not familiar. “I thought you’d told me Heaven would be my best memories.”

“This is actually my part of Heaven. It can look like anything I want.”

The room around you was suddenly an open field, wildflowers as far as you could see. Then you were surrounded by snow–still, surprisingly warm despite the wind whipping around you. Then you were standing near a waterfall, and you could feel the water drops splashing against your skin.

Finally, you were back in the room you’d woken up in.

“Whoa.” It was little more than a whisper.

“Would you like to see the rest of Heaven?” Raphael smiled at the wonder in your voice. He gestured towards a door and it opened to reveal a bright light. 

You couldn’t see anything beyond the door and the light, but your curiosity was getting the better of you.

“Is… is that even possible? Like, can we do this?” You turned your attention from the light back to Raphael. “You said humans can’t leave their own Heavens.”

“You’re with an archangel, ______. We can do anything you’d like.”

You laced your fingers with his. “Show me everything?”

His smile widened. “Everything, it is.”


	4. “Game’s over you son of a bitch! Tell me where he is!“ (Raphael)

You were pacing. Back and forth across the tiny motel room, prepared to wear a trench in the carpet. You’d always mocked the television shows that showed people pacing back and forth when something was eating at them as being completely unrealistic. Looks like you were so very wrong about that.

Finally, you heard the flutter of wings.

You tried to keep the disappointment from your voice when you saw it was only Cas. “Any news?”

“I’m afraid not, ______. Metatron’s army is too strong for me to get through.”

“We have to do something! I can’t just leave him in there!” Yeah, you knew all the archangels needed rescuing from the douchey scribe-turned-god, but when you got emotional–desperate, really–you tended to forget the others and focus solely on Raphael.

“I believe Gadreel and I have come up with a plan to infiltrate Heaven.”

“You’re taking me with you.” You still weren’t sure you trusted Gadreel completely–although, come to think of it, when it concerned Raphael’s safety, you weren’t sure you trusted Cas either.

He frowned, his brow creasing with concern. “There’s only one way that would be possible…”

.

Technically, there were two ways, but neither Gadreel or Cas mentioned killing you. Probably didn’t want the hassle of trying to find your particular heaven and breaking you out.

So, instead, Gadreel used you as a vessel. It was a weird sensation, constricting, definitely not comfortable. Kind of like being possessed by a demon, only–thankfully–he shared control with you over your body. One less thing for you to have to worry about.

.

“Wookie?”

You could feel Gadreel’s confusion as if it were your own. Sighing, you began thinking of Star Wars and the scene Cas was referring to and kind of…shoved…the images at Gadreel. It was clear he still didn’t understand, but you didn’t really have time to explain, so he simply accepted the plan.

.

“Gadreel,” Metatron sneered as you stepped forward. “I should have known you’d be too weak. You couldn’t handle God’s orders, so I don’t know what made me think you could handle mine.”

Gadreel’s pain momentarily overwhelmed you. But you shook it off. He could make this right. All he had to do was let you take the reigns completely, now.

“Wrong.” You growled, holding your archangel blade (one of the few things Raphael had left with you) to his throat. “Game’s over you son of a bitch! Tell me where he is!”

“Why, ______, so nice of you to join us.” He flashed you a patronizing smile. “I’m sorry to say, I have no idea who you could be referring to.”

“Where. is. Raphael?” Your teeth were clenched in rage as you spat out the question.

“Oh, Raphael? Well, he and all the other Ninja Turtles are safely hidden away in my own little torture chamber. Couldn’t have them accidentally getting out and ruining my plans.”

“You don’t get to make jokes, you bastard.” You pressed the blade harder against his skin, causing the faintest glow of grace to begin seeping out.

“______! If you kill him, we may never find them!” Cas’s voice broke through your rage. Barely

“Gadreel, you know, we still could make it work, you and I.” Metatron began, his voice held a twinge of desperation. “You burn this vessel out and I will forgive this little mishap.”

You could feel Gadreel wavering.

*Keep it together, Gad. Help me get through this and the archangels will clear your name.* Maybe you were grasping at straws, but you knew in your heart you could convince at least one of them to do so.

Finally, he settled.

“Tough shit, Meta-turd. Take me to the archangels, and I’m sure your death will be painless. Don’t, and I will draw this out for as long as Gadreel is riding shotgun.”

.

It took surprisingly little convincing to get Metatron to crack. Especially after he made the mistake of unknowingly boasting over Angel-Radio that all the other angels were stupid sheep. Having all those other angels at your back, ready to rip the new “god” to shreds, he quickly gave up the location of the archangels.

.

Everything else faded from your awareness as soon as you saw Raphael. He was no longer in the form you’d become familiar with on Earth–this was his true form. And it was breath-taking.

“______.”

As soon as you’d freed him from his bindings, he collapsed. You weren’t sure how to help him, or even if you could help him. Everything just seemed too much.

“Hey,” you sighed as you felt him curl around you.

“How are you here?”

“Gadreel and Cas.”

“What?”

You felt his anger in the form of flames against your skin. “Relax, please? They helped me. They’re trying, OK? I owe them for all their help in getting you out.”

“You owe them nothing. They have both betrayed God and Heaven and should experience eternal damna–”

“Please.” Gadreel’s grief was consuming. It was a tangible, constricting grip on your lungs. “Please don’t. They helped me. They helped you. They could have easily washed their hands of this and walked away. But they want to make this right. Please, let them.”

It felt like years passed before you finally felt Raphael begin to settle. “OK.”

“Really?”

You could feel him smiling, even though you were simply surrounded by his presence.

“You somehow managed to help me see the good in humanity, ______. I will take your word on this matter as well.” He paused. “But Gadreel will need to find a different vessel.”

“Gladly.” Gadreel’s voice burst forth. “I mean, not that you are not an excellent vessel, ______. I have enjoyed the time I’ve spent–”

“Gadreel?” This had to be the weirdest thing–having a conversation out loud with the angel in your head.

“Yes?”

“Get out.”

“Right.”

In the blink of an eye, you were alone in your body once more.

“I’ve missed you.”

“Me too.” You sighed and allowed yourself to surrender completely to the presence of the archangel.


	5. “Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always.” (Lucifer)

_Stupid!  Stupid, stupid, stupid!  God damn it!_

Your hands were clenched at your sides as the fight you’d had with Lucifer played over in your mind, yet again.  It had been hours since he’d stormed off, and you knew you really needed to be focused on the case you were working with the Winchesters, but no.  The stupid argument that wound up in a blow-up was running constantly.

“You OK back there?”

You looked up to see Sam turned in his seat, looking at you with concern in his eyes.

“I’m good.  Ready to slice up some vamps.”  Maybe that could help you work through your anger at the fucking stupid archangel.

“Alright.”  

Dean pulled the car to a stop way sooner than you’d expected.  Had you really just blanked the last hour and a half?

The three of you, all armed with machetes, made your way to the cabin.  A surprisingly nice cabin, given that you were hunting vampires, but according to Sam, it belonged to one of the nest’s more recently turned.  

Great.  Vampires with a checking account.

Dean signaled for you to go around to the back.  You nodded and began moving along the wall of the cabin.  Sam headed towards a side window.  

Looking in, you could see this was not some typical cabin that would have all the vampires in one main location.  This was a freaking house.  Did Dean know this?  The last discussion had been about this being a standard cabin, with a main room, a bedroom, and a bathroom–not a lot of places for them to hide and surprise-attack anyone.  

Shit.

Dean was about to get himself killed.

You kicked twice on the backdoor, sending it flying inwards.  If they all came running towards you, Dean and Sam could swoop in behind and take them out.  Hopefully.

. _  
_

_Stupid!  Stupid, stupid, stupid!  God damn it!_

OK, so yeah.  It could have gone a whole lot better.  But it also could have gone a whole lot worse.  Both Winchesters were alive and all the vampires had been killed.  You could have done without being nearly eviscerated, but, at least, you’d only been aerated.

“What the hell were you thinking, ______?!” Dean growled from the front seat of the Impala.  He had the pedal pressed to the floor, if the way you were flying whenever he hit a pothole was any indication.

“I was thinking you were about to get yourself killed.”  You grit your teeth, trying to fight the scream that was welling up inside you.  “Fuck, this hurts.”

“Where’s your boyfriend?  Shouldn’t he be popping in and healing you up right about now?” 

“He’s–” The sudden reminder hit you, hard.  The fight from earlier had completely slipped your mind.  But that shouldn’t have been a surprise, what, with the stabbing and all.  “He’s n-not gonna he-help.”

“What do you mean, he’s not gonna help?”  Sam cocked his head to the side, trying to be gentle with the pressure he was applying to your side.

Those were definitely tears streaming down your cheeks. “He didn’t want me coming with you guys tonight.”  You sucked in a deep breath and closed your eyes.  “Said it was too dangerous.  Said he wasn’t going to stand by and watch me get myself killed.”

“Call him.” Sam instructed.

“I-I can’t.  He-he stormed off.”

“Call him, ______, before you bleed out all over my car!”

You still couldn’t.  He’d been right.  You weren’t good enough to handle this case.  You’d been too stubborn to see he was just trying to keep you safe.

Sam just sighed.  “Lucifer, we’re needing some help with __–”

Before he even got your name out completely, you opened your eyes to find yourself back at the bunker.  You were on your bed, Lucifer sitting next to you, two fingers pressed to your forehead.  

“I’m sorry,” you blurted, at a loss for what to say to make the frown disappear from his face.

“You stupid, stupid human.” He shook his head.  “Why didn’t you call me when this first happened?” He gestured to your side, which had just finished healing.

You sat up and shrugged. “Didn’t think you’d want to help me after everything earlier.”  Your gaze dropped to your lap.

“Hey,” he used his fingers to push your chin up, forcing eye contact.  “I’m with you, okay?  Always.  Even when we disagree, and you’re being stupid, I will be there.  No matter what.  I just need you to let me be there for you.”  He sighed.  “Can you do that for me?”

You smiled, for the first time all day.  “Yeah, I think I can.”


	6. “Before I do this, I need you to know that I have always loved you.” and “What were you thinking?? Were you trying to get me killed?” (Lucifer and Gabriel)

You needed a plan.  Something brilliant to get you out of the mess you were in.  Your brain was going ninety miles an hour, but you were still coming up short.  No way were you going to get out of this alive.

“______,” Gabriel whispered.

“You got any ideas?  We’re surrounded!” You knew he knew that.  Still, it felt better, being able to say something to him.

“I think so.” He bit his lip.  “But,” he sighed, the fingers of his right hand gripping his weapon tightly.  “Before I do this, I need you to know that I have always loved you.”  He used his left hand to grab you by the back of your neck and he pressed his lips to yours in a quick, demanding kiss.

As soon as he released you, you opened your mouth to reply, only to watch him turn around and run out from your hiding place.

“Come and get me, mother fuckers!”

Oh god.  He’d just sacrificed himself for you.  He’d already been hit a few times and he didn’t have much left to give.  There was no way he’d survive if they all found him.

Not even a minute later, you heard him scream and you knew it was over.

“Fuck.” You pursed your lips.  Now was not the time.  You had to get to safety.  You had to make Gabriel’s death mean something.

As quietly as you could, you moved out of your hiding spot.  You needed to be extra careful.  No telling where any of them were.  Every little noise had you pausing.  Holding your breath.  Waiting.  How close were they?

Finally, you saw a possible escape.  A door.  But where did it lead?  At this point, anything had to be–

“What the hell are you doing?”

The light in the hall flickered on.  You looked up from your crouching position to see Lucifer standing over you.  And he looked irritated.

“Idiot human, crawling around in the dark.  Are you trying to trip me?”

“Shhhhhhh.”  You reached up and flipped the light switch so that the hall was now dark once more.  “What were you thinking??  Were you trying to get me killed?“ you hissed.

“Hey, ______!”

Shit.  That was Dean’s voice.  

You turned around quickly, hoping to get off one good shot when your vest lit up, indicating he’d been much quicker than you.

“Damn it, Luce.”


	7. “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?” (Lucifer)

It was quiet.  Too quiet.

Dean had asked you to pick up the newly resurrected Lucifer from a field in the middle of Nowhere, Nebraska.  After he and Cas both swore that Lucy was powerless, you’d reluctantly agreed.  As far as solo cases, this wasn’t the most dangerous you’d ever taken, but it was definitely weird.  Who else could say they had to go rescue Satan from a corn field?

“You OK?”  The silence was getting to you.  Ever since he’d climbed into your car, he’d said nothing.  From the corner of your eye, you could see the gears turning in his mind–which had your worry increasing.  What was he planning?

“It’s cold.”

You frowned, but dutifully reached over and turned the heater on, full-blast.  “Give it a second, and it should be warmer.”

You could feel his gaze on you as if it were something tangible.  You shifted in your seat, flexed your fingers around the steering wheel–anything to quell how uncomfortable you felt.

Silence reigned once again.  For about ten minutes.

“I cannot harm you.”

You glanced over to see him finally staring back out the windshield.  “What?”

“You are tense.  Your posture, the grip you have on the steering wheel.  All indications of someone preparing to either fight or flee.  I am no longer an angel.  I still have all my memories.  I know what I was once capable of doing to you.” He sighed.  “But I am no more powerful than any other mortal.”

“You know, mortals are plenty capable of harming each other.”  And now, you were wishing for the silence to come back.

No such luck.  “Then perhaps it would be better to say, I will not harm you.”

“And I’m just supposed to believe you?”

“You are the one who is armed, ______.” He looked over at you, a ghost of a smile on his lips.  “I have no more than the clothes on my back.  I believe it is I who should be more concerned about their well-being than you.”

“Well, as long as you don’t try anything stupid, you won’t have to be concerned about me.”

“And I’m just supposed to believe you?”

You worked your jaw and turned your attention back to the road.  “Believe what you want.  Some of us do still keep our word.”

“You seem to think I am some sort of liar.”

“The Bible refers to you as the first deceiver, so I think I’m fairly safe in that assumption.”

He sighed.  “I do not understand why you are here.”

“Dean asked me to come.”

“But why did you agree to do so?  You are clearly uncomfortable in my presence.  Surely you could find something else on which to spend your time.”

You didn’t have a good answer, so you simply shrugged.

You let the quiet take over.  At least there, you could pretend you didn’t have Satan riding shotgun.

It wasn’t until the first raindrops hit your car that you spoke again.  “Shit.  This storm wasn’t supposed to hit until tomorrow.”

“Meteorology is not an exact science.”

You rolled your eyes and turned on the wipers, but it wasn’t long until even the highest setting was having trouble keeping up with the downpour.  Lightning lit up the sky and thunder echoed in your ears.

“Pull over.”

You turned to glare at him.  “Why the hell would I do that?”

He huffed.  “Please?”

The fact that Lucifer even knew that word startled you enough that you found yourself pulling your car to the side of the road.  “What–”

You didn’t have time to finish your question before he had his door open and was climbing out of the vehicle.  You could just barely make him out through the rain.  All he was doing was standing there.  Just a few feet from your car.

What the hell?

After five minutes of him just standing there, you’d had enough.  “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?” you growled, climbing out of the car, trying to ignore the fact that your clothes were soaked through within a minute of being in the rain.  When he didn’t respond, you stomped over to stand in front of him.  “Lucifer, we don’t have time for–”

“My Father,” he closed his eyes.  “He gave me the task of creating the lightning.”

“Light bringer.”

“Yes.   _For in the midst of a great darkness, there will be light_.”

You watched the corners of his mouth turn up.  Something about him seemed to shift for you.  “It’s a lot like you.”  You felt yourself smiling.  “Something so destructive, and yet, there’s almost a kind of beauty to it.”

He looked down at you, startled.

“You know, when it’s not setting shit on fire and whatnot.”

The smile you got in return made your analogy all that more right.  Definitely a beauty to it.


	8. “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” (Castiel and Lucifer)

It had been one long-ass day.  Interviewing a grieving widow, followed by seven hours of staring at a computer screen, followed by a run through the sewer which resulted in you being covered in a layer of filth from head-to-toe.  On top of all that, you managed to get a gash in your leg that was probably getting more infected by the minute.

All you wanted was to clean up, disinfect your leg, get a beer, and collapse on your bed.  Not necessarily in that order.

“You gonna shower?”  Sam asked as he popped the cap off a beer and handed it to you.

“I think…” you sighed, trying to find the strength.  “Yeah, I probably should.  Otherwise, I’ll have to wash my sheets tomorrow.”

“True.”  He smiled, just as tired as you were.  “Alright.  I’m gonna grab it first, if you don’t mind.  I don’t think I can keep my eyes open much longer.”

“Fine.” You nodded and waved him off.  

Dean had already gone to his room and passed out.  He didn’t seem the least bit concerned about the grime he was covered in.  His prerogative, though.  He could have fun doing an extra load of laundry tomorrow.

After you finished your beer, you limped back to your room to grab a towel and a change of clothes.  Maybe you could convince one of the resident angels to heal you.  Would mean one less thing on your to-do list.

As soon as you flipped the lights on in your room, you stopped dead in your tracks.  “Cas?”

“______, you’re home.”  The angel was buried underneath the covers and sheets on your bed.  

“Yeah.  I’m home.  Mind telling me what the hell you’re doing?”

“Well,” his face tinted pink as he sat up.  The covers fell away to reveal his bare shoulders.  “Well–”

“Cas, are…are you wearing any clothes?”

His face was bright pink now.  “No.”

“You’re in my bed, and you’re naked.”  You huffed.  ““Is there a  _reason_  you’re naked in  _my_  bed?”

“Well, I was talking to Gabriel earlier about how I’d never had the opportunity to go swimming in the ocean.  He said that lying on a waterbed would create the same sensations.”

“So, out of all the waterbeds in the world, you had to pick mine?”

You’d gotten the bed on a whim.  And you’d thoroughly enjoyed having it…up until this very moment.

“That still doesn’t explain why you’re naked.”

“I don’t own any swimming trunks.”

“You don’t–” you worked your jaw.  “You don’t own any–get out of my bed.”

He sighed and threw back the covers.  You immediately slapped your hands over your eyes.

“Ahhh…get some clothes on, first!”

He snapped and you moved your hand.  The familiar suit and trench coat were back on.  “I apologize, ______.”

“It’s fine, Cas.” You blamed Gabriel more than you blamed him.  “Just…you know…ask next time?”

“Right.”

***

You toweled yourself off after you stepped out of the shower.  Your leg was still stinging, but it could wait.  You needed to sleep.  Now.  So you improvised with a few extra-large band-aids before slipping on your pajamas.

You trudged down the hall, back to your room.  You flipped on the lights and groaned.  “The ocean?”

Lucifer paled.  “Gabriel said–”

“You tell your brother, the next time I see him, I’m going to kill him.”


	9. “Come on, let’s throw the dice, see what happens.” and “I just need you to do this one thing for me.” (Gabriel)

You blinked a few times, trying to make sure you really were awake and seeing what you thought you were seeing.  Yup.  You were still in one of those desks from high school, wearing high-waisted jeans, a bright yellow shirt and…a jean jacket.

And yup.  That was still Mr. Belding standing over you.

“Nice of you to join us, ______.”

You so did not have time for this.  “Gabriel, where the hell are you?”

The group-gasp echoed through the room.  Everyone’s eyes were on you.  “My office, now.”  Mr. Belding snapped, turning on his heel, and storming out of the room.

“I am gonna strangle that little creep.”  You pushed yourself out of the desk.

Play the role, right?  That’s what this was about.  Or, that’s at least what the last one had been about.

Well, whatever role you were supposed to play sucked.  Not only were you given three hours of detention (for sleeping in class, swearing, and threatening bodily harm), but you were also ragged on by a group of cheer leaders for not having a date to the dance that was apparently scheduled for that night.

“This blows.  I already lived through this crap once, Gabriel,” you groaned, leaning against the lockers.  

Why he was hell-bent on making you suffer through it again, you had no idea. 

“So, uh ______.”  

You were approached by…well, if you’d still been high school-aged, he would have been mildly attractive.  After all the hunts you’d been on with Sam and Dean, and everything you’d seen, the only word your mind could come up with to describe him was ‘kid.’

“What’s up?”

“I was just wondering,” he scratched the back of his head.  “If you didn’t have anyone to go to the dance with–would you wanna go with me?”

Startled, you turned completely to look at him.  What was Gabriel’s game?  Why would he–

You slammed the kid against the lockers, pressing your forearm against his throat.  “Gabriel,” you hissed.

“Wha–”

Time froze around you.  Was this one of those Zack Morris 'Time Out' things?

“You know, ______, this kid had some pretty nifty powers.”  Suddenly Zack appeared behind you.  “Granted, it was a TV show, but still…not bad in the creativity department.”

You spun around, releasing whoever it was you’d thrown against the lockers (strangely, still stuck in the position you’d left him in), to see ‘Zack’ morph into Gabriel, still wearing the ridiculously ‘90s’ garb.  “What the hell is this, Gabriel?”

“Ooo, watch that mouth, ______, or you’ll end up with more detention.” He grinned.

“What is the point of this?  Why have you trapped me in this…this…” you gestured wildly, “this high school-themed, denim-clad nightmare?”

“Well, it  _had_  been so that I could ask you to the dance tonight, but it seems Sparky over there beat me to it.”

“Wait.  You wanted to ask me to a dance, so you dropped me into an episode of ‘Saved by the Bell’?” You cocked an eyebrow and folded your arms across your chest.  “Why don’t I believe you?”

“Well, you weren’t paying any attention to me out in the real-world,” he pouted.  “Had to do something to get your focus.”

You sighed.  Yeah, the trickster-archangel had been pretty forward in his attempts to flirt with you.  He’d pulled out all the stops.  And as flattered and tempted as you had been, you’d always held him at arm’s length.

“Gabriel…this life…well, not this life,” you indicated your surroundings.  “Hunting…I can’t–I can’t risk it.  You’ve already died on me once.” You bit your lip.  “I don’t know if I could handle losing you if you meant more to me than you already do.”

“You know there’s no guarantee I wouldn’t lose you, but I’m willing to take the risk.” Gabriel stepped closer, until he was right in front of you.  “Come on, ______,” his voice was just a whisper, as he reached up to brush the back of his fingers across your cheek, “let’s throw the dice, see what happens.”

“Gabri–” he silenced you with a gentle kiss.  

Just that one simple touch sparked something inside you and you melted against him.  Your hands found their way up into his hair, tugging gently as his tongue swept across your lips.  You opened readily for him, moaning when he pulled you tight against him.

When you finally broke the kiss, you found yourself panting slightly.  “OK, Gabriel.” You smiled up at him.  “Just–take me home?”

“I’ll take you home.  I just need you to do this one thing for me, first.”

Again, your eyebrow shot up.  “What?”

“Go to the dance with me?”

“Get me out of detention, and yeah.”

He grinned. “Deal.”


	10. “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.” (Lucifer)

This couldn’t go on much longer.  Already, you could sense the unease rolling off of…well, anyone who happened to be in the same room as you and Lucifer. And it was all your fault.  You could admit it.  You used each one of them as a distraction, as some sort of barrier between you and the fallen archangel.

At first, Sam, Dean, and Cas had all been wary of Lucifer (and Michael and, unfortunately Adam), when God (you’d always known that squirrelly Chuck hadn’t been completely honest about who he was) had dropped the three of them at the bunker’s door so he could go and clear the air with his sister.  Somehow, though, the three of them had become much more comfortable with the new housemates.  And, it wasn’t like you kept Michael and Adam at a distance.  No, you were fine with them.  It was just…Lucifer.

.

“I think you just have to give ______ more time.” 

Sam’s mention of you had you stopping, mid-step, on your trek down the hall.  You pressed yourself up against the wall, just out of sight of him and whoever he was talking to.  What was he talking about?

“More time?” Lucifer sounded exasperated.  “______ acts like I’m infected with some sort of contagious disease!  Any time I walk into a room where she’s already at, she makes some sort of excuse to run away.  Or she’ll move to put someone between us.”

“Some people just take longer than others to come around.”

“I freaking tortured your ass for over a hundred years in the cage, and you can somehow get past what I’ve done.”

“Give her time.”

You moved to a more believable position just before Sam opened his door all the way.  “Oh, hey ______.”

“Sam.” You bit your lip.  “Lucifer.”

Lucifer sighed.  “______.”

.

Even knowing that he’d realized what you were doing wasn’t enough to make you stop doing it.  You still moved, albeit–as subtly as possible, to either leave the room when he entered, or to put someone between you and Lucifer.  You could blame it on it now just being habit, but you knew it wasn’t.  You were very much aware and conscious of your actions.

.

“All I’m saying is, talk to the guy.”

“And all I’m saying is, I don’t see the point.”  You tried not to get too irritated with Dean’s insisting.  “Nothing I’ve done has compromised any hunt or anyone’s safety, so what does it matter?”

“Well, whatever’s going on between the two of you is putting everyone in the middle.”

“I don’t understand how you could be in the middle of anything when there’s nothing between the two of us for you to get in the middle of.”

“______, you  _literally move_  to put someone in the middle of you and Lucifer.  I don’t understand how you think that’s nothing.”

“So, then, I’ll just move out!”  You hadn’t meant for that to come out, but he’d pushed you to the point of irritation.  It didn’t really matter that the irritation was directed more at yourself than at anything or anyone else.  

“______,” he frowned.

“No.  If I’m making things awkward for everyone to the point you feel like you have to step in and fix things, then maybe I should be the one to leave.”  

Without giving yourself time to think this through, you stomped to your room and began to gather your belongings.

“______.”

You froze.  He’d never come to your room before.  Dean must have sent him.

“Lucifer.” You kept your back to him, mostly because you didn’t want him to see you crying.

“Dean tells me you’re leaving.”

“Just something I have to do.”

“Will you tell me why?”

You shrugged and quickly wiped your eyes with the back of your hands.  “Personal reasons.” You turned to face him.  “Is that all?”

“Why do you hate me so much?”

That question caught you off-guard.  But, it probably shouldn’t have, considering your behavior.  “I don’t.”

“Then why?” He looked so helpless.  “Why do you avoid me like you do?  Why are you moving out of your home just to continue avoiding me?  Because if you don’t hate me, I can’t see why you would do any of those things.”

“I–” You dropped down to sit on the edge of your bed.

Without waiting for an invitation, he sat down next to you.  “Please, just tell me.  And then I will leave you alone.”

“I–I think I’m in love with you.” You dropped your gaze to your lap.  “And I’m terrified.”

“What?”

You looked up at him again, anger welling up inside.  “I saw you!  I saw what you did in Detroit.  I watched you burn that city and walk away.  It meant  _nothing_  to you.“  You sucked in a deep breath.  “And I just…I can’t be in love with you, knowing what I saw.  What you did.  And even right now,” more tears began to fall from your eyes. “As much as I want to have you wrap your arms around me, I feel ill at the thought because all I can see when I close my eyes is what you did.”

“______,”

“Don’t.  Nothing you can say will ever make this OK for me.”  You pushed yourself off the bed and grabbed your bag.  

This was it.  Time to go.


	11. “My mom thinks you like me. Tell her she’s wrong.” and “You didn’t tell me it was karaoke night.” (Lucifer)

You could have sworn angels couldn’t get drunk.  Or, at least, not easily.  That one time Cas had been plastered, he’d had to down an entire liquor store. Adding in the fact that Lucifer was an  _arch_ angel, you’d have thought it doubly hard.

And yet, here he was, swaying slightly, shirt…somewhere…a feather boa draped over his shoulders, using Sam as support to keep from falling on his ass.

“What the hell have you done to him?” You looked back and forth between him and the Winchesters.

“Got him to call off the Apocalypse, that’s what.”  Dean looked pretty satisfied with himself.

“What about Michael?”  Lucifer was only one half of the Apocalypse equation.

“Still passed out in the Impala.”  Sam used his elbow to nudge Lucifer off of him.  “We know it’s a lot to ask, but…”

“Could you just babysit him until he’s sober.  We’ve still got to go find Cas.”

You cocked an eyebrow.  “Find Cas?”

“Yeah, uh…” Dean scratched the back of his neck.  “Pretty sure Lucy here said something to make him upset.  He took off about an hour ago and we haven’t seen him since.”

“I jusss…I jusss tol him he needed to stop being such an…uptight lil bish.”  Lucifer grinned.  “Cassy’s too mush lick Mikey.  Heh…lick Mikey.”

“You both owe me your firstborns.”  You glared at Sam and Dean.

“Thank God.”  

“Psh.  God nothing.  Dad’s too prissy to see jus how FABULOUSssss I am.”  He huffed and threw an end of the boa around his neck in an attempt to be dramatic.

“You know what?  Forget the offspring.  I want cash.”

Dean and Sam both flashed you thankful smiles before quickly vacating your home.

“Alright, Lucy, I think it’s time for bed.”

“Bed-shmed.”  He pushed past you, well–he stumbled past you, into the living room.  “______! You didn’t tell me it was karaoke night.”

You followed after to find him with the controller from your  _Guitar Hero_  game slung around his neck.  “That’s not karaoke, you moron.  It’s a video game.  And it’s not even a microphone.”

He didn’t seem to hear what you’d said.  “Come sing with me, ______! Duh nuh nuh nuh nuh..”  He pretended to strum away on the ‘guitar’–either not noticing or not caring that the television was off.

“No.  We are not doing this.  It’s time for bed.”  You pried the controller from him and pushed him down the hall.

“You gonna join me?” He turned around and wiggled his eyebrows.

Your face turned bright red, but you elected to ignore his words and continue prodding him towards your room.

When you finally,  _finally_ , got him on the bed, he rolled onto his back and smiled drunkenly up at you.  “You know, my mom thinks you like me. You should tell her she’s wrong.”

“And I’m pretty sure you don’t have a mom, Luce.”

He frowned.  “That’s not a nice thing to say.”  Was he…oh shit, he was crying.

“Hey, you’ll have to talk to your Dad about that one.  Not me.”  You pulled your comforter up over him and sighed.  “But, I do like you, Luce.  Probably too much for my own good.”

“Good.” His eyes closed and you could tell he was beginning to fall asleep.  “‘Cause I like you, too.”

.

(and _[here](http://mummyluvr314.livejournal.com/132566.html?thread=532182)_ , have a look at the pictures that inspired me)


	12. “I almost lost you.” (Michael)

For two days, you did pretty much nothing but sit and watch. Sam had tried to get you to eat, leaving plates of food on the table next to you that he wound up collecting (the food remaining untouched) when he brought the next meal down. Dean had tried to get you to sleep, only to wind up bringing you a pillow and blankets so you wouldn’t have to leave your spot. Cas had tried to talk to you, tried to reason that he’d be fine, that his grace (what was left of it anyway) just needed time.

None of that made any difference. You remained steadfast in your decision to stay next to Michael–to make sure he was OK.

“Mmm.”

You blinked a few times, hoping that you’d heard what you thought you had. Your heartbeat picked up when you saw Michael begin to shift on the bed. “Michael?”

“______?” He opened his eyes slowly. “You–you’re OK.”

A sob escaped past your lips. “Me? Yeah, I’m fine. Up to the point where I almost lost you.” 

“You’re OK.” He repeated and a sleepy smile formed on his face. “S’all that counts.”

“No! Don’t you dare say that!” Without thinking, you were on him in a flash, pinning the still-healing angel to the bed. “Do you have any idea what you’ve put me through?”

“If memory serves,” his voice was a little stronger than before, “You would have died if I hadn’t taken that bullet for you.”

“Yeah? And what if you had died? Do you know what that would do to me?” You glared at him. “You don’t get to do that to me, ever again, do you understand?”

“I can’t promise that. If it means the difference between you living and dying, I can’t promise that.”

His words broke your resolve and you clung to him, releasing all the emotions you’d bottled up as you’d kept your vigil.


	13. “Twins? We’re…we’re having twins?!” (Lucifer)

You looked at the ultrasound and then to the doctor.  Ultrasound, doctor.  Back and forth.  You were like a cartoon-character’s double-take on repeat.

“Twins? We’re…we’re having twins?!”

You felt your husband’s grip on your hand tighten at the concern in your voice.

“Two heartbeats and two distinct fetuses on the monitor.  Yes, I believe it’s safe to say you are 100% for sure having twins.”  The doctor’s smile faltered.  He’d picked up on your tone as well.  “I–um–I’ll give the two of you a little privacy.  Whenever you’re ready,” he hastily wiped the gel from your belly, “just change back into your clothes and head around to the front desk.  The nurse can set you up for your next appointment.”

As soon as the door closed behind him, Lucifer sighed.  “I take it, the fact that we’re having twins has upset you.”  He looked so dejected.

“Oh, honey,” you gave his hand a gentle squeeze.  “Believe me when I say I couldn’t be happier having your children.”

“But…?”

Hormones started kicking in and you felt tears prickling the corners of your eyes.  “I-I’m already  _huge_!  And I-I’m only h-half way through the s-second trimester.  I’m gonna be a blimp by the time these two are ready to come out!”  You sucked in a breath.  “How am I–are you laughing at me?”  In the blink of an eye, you could feel your anger rising.  “Are you seriously standing there,  _laughing_  at me?”

“Sweetheart,” Lucifer was trying his damnedest to school his features.  “I would never laugh at something that would cause you this much stress.”

“You  _are!!!_  You are a fucking jerk!  I’m about to get bigger than your true form, and you are fucking laughing at me!”  Angry tears began to fall from your eyes.  “Why are you being so mean to me?”

“Oh, ______, baby, no.” He took your face in his hands.  “It’s just…you know you have nothing to worry about, right?”

You closed your eyes.  “But I’m gonna be  _huge_ – _huger_  than I am and you’re not gonna want to be with me anymore and–”

“Enough.” His tone was gentle, but firm.  “There is nothing, in all of creation, that could make me not want to be with you.  No matter what shape this body takes, your soul will always be the most beautiful thing to me.  I have loved you from the beginning, from the moment of your soul’s creation, and I will continue to love you long after time has ceased to be.”  He placed his hand over your belly.  “And I will love our children–the perfect mingling of your soul and my grace.”

You placed your hand over his and finally felt a smile tug at your lips.  “I love you.”

“And I love you.”  He leaned over and pressed his lips to your temple.  “Are the three of you ready to go home now?”

“I think so.” He helped you to sit up.  “We’re having twins!”  The words finally brought joy to your heart.

Lucifer simply smiled and hugged you to him.


	14. “Blood. Blood everywhere.” and “IT’S NOT COMING OFF!” (Balthazar)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This request included these words: laundry, menstruation, and panties

“What can I get for you, love?” 

“Midol!” You swiped your tears away with the back of your hand. “And chocolate. And a heating pad.” You curled into a ball on your bed as another cramp twisted your gut into knots. 

Balthazar sighed and set about getting your requested items.  He’d been brought back, sans angel powers, and hated that he couldn’t just poof things up anymore.  It was probably one of his chief complaints, and usually, you did your best to go easy on asking him for things to keep from constantly reminding him of his new limitations.

But right now, that was the least of your worries.  If you had to deal with this whole being a girl, menstruation bullshit, he could get off his lazy ass and do things the human way for a little while.

“And I need you to do the laundry!”

Another sigh.  “Yes, dear.”

***

You’d just managed to drift off to sleep, finally able to relax a little with the heating pad Balthazar had brought you, when he started shouting.

“Damn it!  IT’S NOT COMING OFF!”

“What the hell?”  You shot out of bed, adrenaline momentarily keeping’ you from feeling the pain in your abdomen, and ran towards the laundry room.  “Balth–”

“Blood.” He held up a pair of your panties and shook them at you.  “Blood everywhere, and I can’t get it out!”

“D’you try the spray?”

“Yes, I tried the spray,” he snapped, still waving your stained underwear around.  “Three washes ago.  It refuses to come clean.”

“Hydrogen peroxide.” You nodded towards the shelf.  “S’why I keep a bottle in here.”

“Oh.”  His demeanor calmed instantly.

“Anything else?”  You tried to fight it, but you found yourself doubling over when another cramp hit.

“How about we get you back to bed?” He lifted you up, bridal-style.  “I’ll get the laundry later, OK?”

“I’m sorry for being such a pain in the ass.”  You frowned.

“You’re just keeping me on my toes, love.”  He kissed your temple.


	15. “Before I do this, I need you to know that I have always loved you.” (Lucifer)

The so-called ‘King of Hell’ had put a price on your head.  It wasn’t because of anything specific that you’d done, per se, but more because of who you were.  Or rather, who you were with.

You’d found Lucifer, broken and abandoned, on the side of the road one night, almost a year ago.  As filthy and disheveled as he was, Sam had recognized him immediately–his time being Lucifer’s vessel had linked him irrevocably with the fallen angel.  Your hunter’s instinct (along with Sam and Dean), had initially wanted to kill him and be done with it.  But after some discussion, and a few choice profanities, the three of you had decided to try something different.

So, you’d brought Lucifer to your home.  There was no way any of you were giving him access to the bunker, so your little house on the outskirts of town was the only other option.  Sam and Dean had dropped you (armed with an archangel blade) and Lucifer off, with a promise to check in, daily.

It took nearly a full year, but Lucifer had recovered.  And he’d managed a change of heart about humanity.  Not to toot your own horn, but you liked to think you played a major part in that.  You’d also, somehow, convinced him that Hell needed to be closed down, permanently.  

Lucifer’s one-angel-mission to reclaim Hell so that he could tear it apart had put the two of you on Crowley’s radar.  The number of demons that had come after you had quadrupled.  And it wasn’t until you managed to trap one, that you realized they were after you, not Lucifer.  And it was then, Lucifer decided to end Crowley, once and for all.

.

“I don’t understand why it’s  _me_  they’re after.”  You frowned, trying to piece this together.  “ _You’re_  the one who’s going after Hell, not me.”

“Does it really matter?”  Lucifer looked over from where he was gathering his weapons together.  “I’m not going to let them get to you.”

“It just doesn’t make sense to me.”

“They’re  _demons_ , ______.  I’m fairly certain they don’t have to make sense.”

“OK, so, they’re after me.  That, I kinda get, because I’ve taken a few of them out.  But why wouldn’t they go after you?  Like, at all?  Surely, by now, they’ve realized your game plan.”

“______,” he sighed before turning and placing his hands on your shoulders.  “They know, OK?  They know  _you’re_  my weakness.  If they get to you, then they know they’ll have won.”

You bit your lip.  “You’d give up?  If something happened to me?”

“You’re the reason I’m doing this.”

“But I thought–”

“I don’t want to destroy humanity, but honestly, if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t care what would happen to them.”

“All those people, though.”

He sighed.  “There’s only one person I would take on all of Hell  _and_  Heaven for.”  He pulled you into his arms and kissed your forehead.  “I need you to know something.  Before I do this,” he gestured to the weapons he’d gathered, “I need you to know that I have always loved you.

“Don’t,” you hastily pulled free.  “Don’t tell me that like you’re not coming back.  You wanna tell me that you love me, you do it when you come back to me.”

“______–”

“Don’t you understand?  I wouldn’t be able to go on if something happened to you.”

“No,” he reached out for you, hugging you close to him again.  “You will make it through this.  No matter what.”

“Then you’d better make it back here.  It’s the only way I will be able to do that.”

“I will do my very best.”  He gave you the briefest of kisses before both he and the weapons disappeared.


	16. “Seriously, let’s play a game of (truth or dare was picked)” and “Just take it off.” and "Just wrap it around my waist.” (Lucifer)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I changed the wording of one of the prompts just a teeny bit.

“Shit, I’m bored.”

You didn’t even bother to lift your head when Dean started to complain.  Everyone was bored.  Him whining about it wasn’t making the boredom go away.

“Well, we could always look for another case.” 

You rolled your eyes at Sam’s suggestion.  Ever since the God-Squad had joined TFW (and you), monsters, demons, and pretty much all the other baddies had gotten wise and am-scrayed.

“We spend our whole lives hunting monsters.  Now there’s no monsters.  Are we even qualified to do anything else?”  Dean drummed his fingers along the table.  

“We could play a game.”  Gabriel suggested.

“Game?”  That had sparked your interest.  You pushed yourself to sit up on the couch, keeping your feet in Lucifer’s lap.

“Yeah, like…Seven Minutes in Heaven?”  Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows.

“That’s ridiculous, Gabriel.  Why would anyone want to spend only seven minutes in Heaven?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes at Michael.  “What about Spin the Bottle?”

“The odds of getting one of your brothers instead of Sam are pretty big there.  And using your angel mojo to make it land on him is just cheating.”

Gabriel pouted for a moment, before his eyes lit up.  “Truth or Dare?”

You watched as Lucifer looked at you from the corner of his eye and smiled.

“Seriously, let’s play a game of Truth or Dare!”  Gabriel’s enthusiasm had soon infected everyone else in the room and you all agreed.  

“Rules?” Sam asked.

“Anything goes?” Gabriel batted his eyes at the hunter.

“How about nothing that involves me seeing my brother naked?” Dean glared at him.

“Same.” Sam earned another pout from Gabriel.

“Fine.” Gabriel huffed.  “Since it was my idea, I’ll go first.”  He looked around the room before his eyes landed on Lucifer.  “Luci, truth or dare?”

“Does he even know  _how_ to tell the truth?”

You chucked a pillow from the couch at Dean for his comment.

“Truth.” Lucifer stuck his forked tongue out at Dean.

“How many times have you seen ______ naked?”

You could feel a blush begin to creep up your cheeks.

“So far?  Three times.”  He grinned.  “______’s feet get cold.  Socks usually stay on, so completely naked?  Three times.”

You had to be bright red.

“My turn,” Lucifer purred, looking at you.  “Cas, truth or dare.”

Cas’s eyes widened.  “Um…dare?”

“I dare you to…do a body shot off of Dean.”

“Can I veto this one?” Dean growled.

“No can do.”  Gabriel rubbed his hands together gleefully.

After the body shot (which left both hunter and angel a nice shade of pink), Cas dared Michael to watch porn, Michael asked Samandriel if he was a virgin, and Samandriel asked Dean if he was in love with anyone (the follow up question of ‘who’ had Dean insisting that he’d already had his turn and he didn’t have to answer).

“______, truth or dare?”  Dean asked.

“Dare.”

“Show us your anti-possession tattoo.”

Creeper.  He knew  _exactly_  where that particular tattoo was located.  Aside from Lucifer, the tattoo artist was the only other one to ever have seen it.  You  _had_  planned on keeping it that way.

You scowled.  “Fine.”  You stood up and began to tug at your jeans.

“Oh, just take it off,” Balthazar called, grinning.

“I hate you both.”  You glared at Dean and Balthazar before unbuttoning your pants and pushing them down to your knees.  “There.” You made sure to turn your leg so everyone could see the tattoo gracing the inside of your thigh.  “Happy?”

“Immensely.”

“Balthazar, truth or dare?”

The game continued until it was Gabriel’s turn.  He tapped his chin.  “______, truth or dare?”

“I pick dare, only if it doesn’t involve me removing my clothes.”

“I dare you to slow dance with Luci.  Right here, right now.”

“Come on, Gabe.  You can’t dare me to–”

“Hey, if Cas had to do a body shot off me, you can dance with the devil.”

You rolled your eyes before looking back at Gabriel.

Gabriel just shrugged.  “It’s either that, or I’m gonna dare you to go down on–”

“Slow dancing it is.”  You were on your feet a moment later, yanking Lucifer up with you.  “You OK with this?”

He leaned forward, pressing his lips near your ear.  “Only if you can tell me what I’m supposed to do with my hands.  I get the feet shifting bit, but–uh–”

You smiled and whispered, “Just wrap them around my waist.”

“I can do that.”


	17. “Is… is that even possible? Like, can we do this?” and “I’m pregnant.” and “Boo.” (Lucifer)

You paced back and forth in the bathroom.  Frustratingly enough, it didn’t make time go faster, but it did give you a chance to think.  And try to figure out how the hell you were going to tell–

“______?  You alright in there?”  Lucifer’s concern was evident.

“Yeah, just…” you groaned.  “Just having a little bit of a crisis” You leaned against the wall just as he opened the door.

“Are you…I mean…?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m pregnant, Luce.”  Might as well just get it over with.

He frowned.  “You are.”

“What?”

“You’re pregnant.  Did you…” he opened the door completely and looked at the counter.  There, beside the sink, was the test.  “You don’t need that.  I can assure you that you’re pregnant.”

“What?”

“I’m an archangel, ______.  Foretelling pregnancies is  _usually_  Gabriel’s thing, but I can still figure it out.”  He smiled.

“What?”

“Are you alright?”

You shook your head to clear your thoughts.  “I’m pregnant?”

“I believe I said that already.”

“A-and you’re OK with that?”

“Is there a reason I shouldn’t be?”  He reached out and took your hands in his.  “We’re going to be parents, ______.  Are  _you_  OK with that?  You are the one who looks like someone just shouted ‘Boo!’ and scared you.”

“Well, I-I didn’t know how you’d take it.  I mean, I’m human.  Our baby will be a nephilim.  Doesn’t Heaven kinda have a problem with those?”

“Anyone who has a problem with our child can take it up with my blade.”

“A baby, though.”  While he’d done well at soothing you, you still felt a little anxious at the thought.  “You and me–parents?  Is… is that even possible? Like, can we do this?”

“Why would it not be possible?”

“I don’t know.  I just–” you heaved a sigh.  “You’re really OK with this?”

“I very much would like to have a child with you, ______.”

That did wonders at squashing the last of your apprehension.  “Really?”

“Yes.  We will make excellent parents.  I can show them the ways of being an angel, and you can show them how to be a human.  Our child will have the best of both worlds.”

“Alright, Hannah.” You grinned.

“What?”  He cocked an eyebrow.


	18. “Owwww!!!!” and “That’s my (body part)” and “How many times have you seen me naked? And now you’re shy?” (Lucifer)

It was your job to tend to battle injuries.  It made sense–you were the only resident at the bunker with any medical training, and with the angels having lost all their mojo, that left you to fix everyone’s wounds.

It was weird at first for everyone–yourself included–about displaying body parts so that you could treat stab wounds and bullet holes properly.  The first time Dean had to drop his pants so you could get at a rather nasty gash on his thigh, you’d avoided each other for a week after.  Not so much sexual tension as it was pure embarrassment (mostly his).

After months of being the medic for the Winchesters and their ever-growing collection of angels, you all were pretty cool with it.  Even Raphael had quit muttering about insignificant cockroaches every time you’d stitch him up.  The only trouble came when it was Lucifer knocking at your door.

OK, so maybe that was purely your hang-up.  There was just something about the fallen-angel-turned-human-turned-hunter that got your heart racing.  And that one time he’d been brought to you by Cas and nearly died while you stitched him up that had almost had your heart stopping, well…you hated thinking about that night.

And now, here he was, once again all bloody and mangled and laid out on the spare bed in your room.  (It had been moved there when Sam had been in critical condition for two days and you’d needed to keep an eye on him.)

“Owwww!!!!”

“Quit whining, you big baby.” 

“That’s my spine, ______!”

You rolled your eyes.  “It’s your hip.  I haven’t gone anywhere near your spine.”  You pulled your stitching taut.  “Stop moving or I’m going to mess up.  I’m almost done.”

He sucked in a breath through his teeth as you tied off the stitches.  

“There.  All done.”

Gingerly, he rolled over onto his back, leaving you with a view of his completely naked body.  Shit, he was perfection.

“Are you…are you blushing?”  Lucifer was able to mask his pain enough to smirk at you.  “How many times have you seen me naked? And now you’re shy?”

“M’not shy.”  You averted your gaze back to your medical supplies.

“Doctor, I think I might be getting sick.”  He faked coughing.  “I think I might need to stay here overnight–so you can keep an eye on me.”

You stared at him a moment before rolling your eyes.  “What am I going to do with you?”

“I can think of several things.  Ahh,” he yelped.  “but they may all have to wait until I’m all healed.”


	19. “Hold my hand damn it, we gotta make this look convincing!” and “Kiss me.” (Gabriel)

Another year, another Christmas-time family get-together you didn’t have a date for.  Damn, but you hated these things.  The obligation to make small talk with people you only saw once a year.  The looks of pity when you told them that no, you weren’t married and yes, you were quite comfortable on your own.  The forced smiles and hidden cringes whenever Uncle Bob-or-whatever-his-name-was decided to start his alcohol-induced, bigoted rambling.

In other words, pure torture.

“Fuck.” You’d planned on declining, your brain already working on creating some brilliant scenario that would work as an excuse as soon as you saw the letter addressed to you in your aunt’s handwriting.  But then, you’d actually read the card.  And just like every year prior, she managed to guilt you into calling and confirming that you’d be there.

Now, it was the day before the party and you were scrambling.

“What’s up, ______?” Dean looked up from the laptop he’d been staring at (almost certainly some porn video) as you walked into the library.

“Either of you up for pretending to be my boyfriend?”

“Uhhh…” Sam and Dean exchanged confused looks.

“It’s for a Christmas party tomorrow.  With my family.”  You tried to smile.  “Just for a few hours so I can avoid all the ‘hey, I can totally set you up with my friend–he hasn’t dated anyone in years either’ or ‘oh, you poor thing, all alone in life’ commentary.”

“In that case,” Dean grinned.  “Hell no.”

“Yeah,” Sam grimaced.  “For a case, maybe, but this…I gotta pass on that.”

“Please,” you clasped your hands together.  “I’m begging–”

“Oh, I’m all about the begging, sweet cheeks.” Gabriel appeared with a grin.  “Looks like I came just in time.”

“Yeah, Gabriel will do it!”  Dean nodded towards the archangel.  “Ask him.”

You groaned.  No good could come of this.  But you were desperate.  “Gabriel?”

“Yeah?”  There was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“There’s this party I have to go to.  Could you find it in your heart to accompany me and maybe pretend to be my boyfriend for a few hours?”

“You want me to  _lie_?” If you hadn’t known him, you’d have thought he was genuinely offended by your request to be dishonest.  “Yeah, sure.  Do I need to bring anything?”

“Nope,” you felt the tension in your shoulders ease slightly.  “I’ve already started making the pies we’ll be bringing.”

“Pies?” Dean’s attention was on you.

“Oooo, tough luck there, slugger.”  Gabriel reached over and ruffled his hair.  “Looks like you missed out.”

“Yeah,” you couldn’t help but add, “And I only made what I’m bringing, so there won’t be any left over for you.” You stuck your tongue out at Dean.

* * *

 

You had just turned around from setting the pies down on the table when you had to groan.

“Stop fidgeting.”  You slapped Gabriel’s hands from his tie.  “And hold my hand damn it, we gotta make this look convincing!”

“Why do I have to wear a tie?” He whined even as he laced his fingers with yours.

“Because you’re supposed to look nice.  Be happy I let you come in jeans instead of the suit I’d originally planned.”

“This is dumb, ______.”

“I know,” you growled.  “I don’t want to be here anymore than you do, but maybe they’ll finally leave me alone after they see I brought a date.”  You rolled your eyes, already knowing that was just wishful thinking on your part.  You sighed.  “If you want to go, you can.”

He squeezed your hand.  “It’s OK.  If I can survive millennia with my brothers bickering over every little thing, I can make it a few hours here.”

Your shoulders sagged in relief.  “Thank you.”

All of a sudden, Gabriel leaned in close.  Way close.  Like, sharing the same breath-close.  “Kiss me.”

“What?”

“Your aunt is watching us.  We gotta make this look convincing, right?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

You huffed.  “Fine.”  You leaned your head in until your lips finally made contact with his.


	20. “Blood. Blood everywhere.” and “IT’S NOT COMING OFF!” (Raphael)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's another period drabble. With a weird twist.
> 
> Mentions of Sabriel and Destiel.

You started running the moment you heard the yelling.  

“I swear to your father, Gabriel, if you did something to–”

Gabriel stepped out of his room looking put out.  “What is–wait, why are you blaming me?”

“Because it’s always you!” you growled.

“Since when?” he pouted.

“Uh, the time you turned Mike into an actual Mike and Ike, and Samandriel nearly ate him?” Lucifer poked his head into the hall.

“Or the time you locked Dean and Cas in Narnia?” Balthazar chimed in.

“What?” Gabriel rolled his eyes.  “It’s not like I made them come out of an  _actual_  closet.”

“Close enough.” Cas snapped.  “Dean got frostbite.”

“And I’m sure you had loads of fun warming him up.”  Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows.

“What about the time you turned my hair pink?” Sam asked, stepping out of Gabriel’s room to stand in the doorway.  “ _All_ of my hair.”

“It was  _Valentine’s Day_.” Gabriel pouted.

“So, who did you prank this time?”

“No one.  I swear I–”

“IT’S NOT COMING OFF!” 

“Raphael.  Shit.”  You glared at Gabriel.  “I am going to let Raph strangle you.”

“I didn’t.”

“Sure.” You rolled your eyes and continued down the hall to Raphael’s room.  You found the archangel ripping the sheets from the bed.  “Glitter?”

“Blood.  Blood everywhere.”  Raphael doubled over.  “I am going to  _kill_  Balthazar if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Wait.  Balthazar?” You cocked your head to the side.

“He destroyed my male vessel.  I was forced to inhabit a female vessel and now…ugggghhh.”

“You…you have your period?”

“What did you think this was?” The glare sent your way was enough to melt ice.

“You know what?  I think I can help.  Give me a minute to get what you need.”  You spun on your heel.  “Balthazar!  You’re making a supply run!”


	21. “Stop! Please, don’t! Take me instead!” and “Don’t force my hand, you won’t like what happens.” and “Blood. Blood everywhere.”  (Lucifer and Gabriel)

You were a freaking idiot.  There really was no other way to explain it.  How else would you end up in the middle of a hotel conference room, Lucifer gripping your throat, unless you were a complete moron?

“Let her go!”  Dean and Sam charged towards you, but a flick of Lucifer’s free hand sent them flying back across the room.

“Lucifer!” 

The last time you’d heard that voice was the last time you’d wanted to hear it.  You’d thought he was one of the good guys, until you’d overheard his conversation with Dean.  Gabriel was running, tail tucked between his legs. 

But maybe not.

Lucifer tightened his hold as he turned, dragging you around so that you could both see Gabriel.  He looked fierce–like the true definition of an archangel.

“Let. Her. Go.” Gabriel pointed at you with his blade.

“Or what?” Lucifer taunted.

“Don’t force my hand, brother.  You won’t like what happens.” Gabriel growled, taking a fighting stance.

“Is that meant to frighten me, Gabriel?”

You saw Gabriel lunge at Lucifer, a flurry of movement, and then…the most horrific pain you’d ever felt cascaded over you.  Your breath caught in your lungs as you looked down to see Gabriel’s blade, buried to the hilt, in your stomach.

“See,  _brother_.  I always have the upper hand.” Lucifer sneered and vanished, leaving you to slump forward into Gabriel’s arms.

“No. No, no, no, no, no, no. No.” Gabriel lowered you to the ground slowly.  “Please no.  Fuck!”

“Ga–be,” you choked out.  “H–h–urts.”

“I know, baby, I know.” He bit his lip as he tried to carefully pull the blade out.

“Fuck.” You gasped, your body arching in pain.

“Sam!  Dean!” Gabriel snapped his fingers and both hunters were at your side.  “I need–” he shook his head, studying your wound frantically.  “Hold her down.  I have to—fuck—blood.  Blood everywhere.  Shit.”

“Gabriel!” Sam reached over and slapped the archangel across the face, only to wind up shaking his hand in pain.

“Right.” Gabriel nodded, not the least bit fazed that he’d just been hit.  “Hold her.  I have to heal her soul before I can heal her body.”  He knelt over you as he rolled up his sleeve.  He waited until both Sam and Dean had a firm grip on you before he pressed his hand against your belly.

_Heat.  Endless burning.  You’d been engulfed by a fire.  So intense, it was like you melted into the sun and ceased to exist outside of it._

“Hang on, ______.”

Gabriel’s voice echoed in your brain.

“Dad, please!”

Was…was Gabriel praying?

“Not her! Stop! Please, don’t! Take me instead!”


	22. “I’m pregnant.” (Michael)

You were a nervous wreck.  Sure, you’d done your homework, read up on every bit of literature you could find on the topic, badgered Cas almost to the point of contention–even though you refused to explain why you were asking about it, but none of that seemed to quell your fears.  In fact, it almost made it worse.

Nephilim meant…well, nothing good (even Cas went back and forth on the subject).  And that was what was growing inside you. 

“______, I’m back!”

You quickly shook your head to clear your thoughts.  You needed to tell him.  He was the father and he deserved to know.  

“Michael, hey.” You pushed yourself to your feet and forced a smile to your lips.  “How did it go?”

“Not bad.” He smiled.  “I’m telling you, this being-human thing isn’t all that difficult.“

Of course it wouldn’t be, to him, you mused.  He was only pretending.  He was still very much a powerful archangel.  Which could make what you were about to say very, very bad.

“Well, I’m glad you think so, because things are about to get a little more human.  Ish.”

“What?”

“Well…I…I’m pregnant.” You blurted, then slapped your hands over your mouth.

“What?”

“I’m with child?  Knocked up?  Leggo-my-preggo?”  You had no idea where that last one came from.  Blame it on the jitters.

“No.”

“Actually, I’m pretty positive.  All the symptoms–no period, morning sickness–which, by the way, is a total lie, because I’m getting sick  _constantly_ –and I even peed on the stick.  So, yeah.”  You bit your lip.  “Surprise.  You’re gonna be a daddy.”

“That’s not possible.  Only fallen angels procreate with human females.”  He frowned and shook his head.  “You must be mistaken.”

“Check for yourself, Michael.”  This was not how you’d envisioned this conversation.  Quite frankly, his reaction was beginning to piss you off.

Brow furrowed, he placed his hand on your stomach.  “How is this possible?”  He sounded somewhere between afraid and angry.

“Sex, Michael.  You and me?  That thing we do where you put your–”

“I’ve created an abomination.”

“How can you say that?  It’s a baby, not a demon.”  

This was a mistake.  Telling him was a huge mistake.  Hell, sleeping with him had probably been a bigger one if this was going to be his reaction to you getting pregnant.

The only question was…what were you supposed to do now?


	23. “I love you for you, don’t you dare think otherwise!” and “Come on, let’s throw the dice, see what happens.” and “Go on, tell me. Tell me you don’t love me.” (Lucifer)

“Come on, ______.” You growled.  “Let’s throw the dice, ______.  See what happens, ______.” You looked up at your captor.  “I’ll tell you what happens.  I get taken hostage, that’s what happens.”  You were fuming.  “Of course, that happens  _after_ I get my fucking heart ripped out!” You aimed that last bit at your fellow captive.

“I–I’m sorry.” Lucifer looked over at you, shame in his eyes.  “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“How was it supposed to be, huh?  You were gonna come home, tell me you were in some board meeting that got held up?  How were you gonna cover up the smell of her perfume, huh?”  You stretched out as far as you could to kick at him, but the chains holding you to the wall kept you from reaching him.

“Are the two of you quite finished?” The demon who’d nabbed both of you was growing annoyed.

“I’m sorry, are we distracting you?” Lucifer snapped.

“Shut up.  At least  _he_  didn’t marry me for my family’s money just to go bang everything with a pulse!” Your rage was boiling.  

“I love you for you, ______.  Don’t you dare think otherwise!”

“Really?  How many times have you ‘loved’ me this week?  Once!  How many other women have you ‘loved’?  Huh?  My sister said she saw you with at least two others.  Plus, there was tonight.”

“Do the two of you always argue like this?” The demon was once again butting in.

“No!” “Yes!” Lucifer shouted back his answer just as you did.

You sucked in a deep breath, covering the sounds of clanking metal. “So just do it.  Just go on and tell me.” your voice hitched.  “Tell me you don’t love me.  Then this can just all be over.”

“I can’t do that, ______.”

Tears began to spill out of your eyes.  “Please, you’ve broken my heart enough to–”

“OK, fuck Crowley’s orders.  I can’t deal with this shit anymore.” The demon raised his gun and aimed it at your head.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”  Immediately, your tears stopped and you simply smiled at the demon.

“Oh, and why not?” The demon was cocky.  He obviously didn’t realize just who he’d taken hostage.

“Because if you harm one hair on my mate’s head, I will rip each and every molecule from your body and keep you alive while I do it.” Lucifer hissed.  Now that he was free from the angelic-chains that had kept his power dimmed, he was glowing.

“Shit.”  The demon began to smoke out of it’s meatsuit, but Lucifer grabbed the black mist.  His touch sent sparks of electricity through it and a scream erupted, shattering the windows in the room.  Then, the smoke disappeared.

“Are you hurt?” Lucifer was at your side a moment later, removing the chains that had held you to the wall.

“I’m good.  Shit, we really had him going there, didn’t we?” You grinned.  “Where would you be if I wasn’t around to get you out of trouble?”

“Me?  I believe I was the one who freed us both, and destroyed the demon.  Looks like we’re two-and-oh.”

You rolled your eyes.  “You are so not funny.”

“Yeah, but you love me anyway.”

You smiled.  “Of course, mate.”


	24. “Stop taking pictures! I’m fucking stuck. Be useful and help me!!” and “Delete that immediately.” (Gabriel)

“I am going to kill you, Gabriel!”

Another flash, another spike in your blood pressure.

“Oh, come on, ______.  Surely you can see the humor in this,” he grinned.  “And if you can’t, these will make sure everyone else can.”

Two more flashes in rapid succession.

“OK, you know what?  Fuck you.  Stop taking pictures!  I’m fucking stuck.  Be useful, for once in your stupid life, and help me!!”

“You know you’re adorable when you’re angry?  How your eyes just seem to glower with hatred–so beautiful.”

“I’m gonna fry you in holy oil if you don’t get me out right now!”

He huffed.  “Fine.” He snapped his fingers, and you were free.

“‘Bout time, jerk.”

“You know, if you’re not gonna show a little appreciation, I could always put you back.”

It was your turn to huff.  “Fine.  Thank you, Gabriel.”

He winked, waved his camera in your direction, then disappeared.

.

As quietly as you could, you pressed the button on your phone.  

“What are you doing?” Damn those angel senses.  “______?”

“Oh, hey there, Gabe.”  You smiled coyly, snapping a few more pictures.  “Don’t you just look adorable.”

“Delete that immediately, and get me out of here.” He growled.

“In a minute.” You quickly sent all of the photos to Dean–you know, just in case the archangel decided to kill you over this, at least your death wouldn’t be in vain.


	25. "It’s so big!” and “No, I’m not a friggin virgin!” and “Make out with me.” (Lucifer)

“Why?”

Lucifer grinned up at you from his spot on his bed.  “Why not?”

“It’s just…it’s so big!” You sighed.  “Why do you need such a big television?”

He rolled his eyes.  “It’s not about need.  I don’t  _need_  anything.  This is simply what I want.”

“OK, but why…” you finally noticed what was on the screen.  “Are you watching  _porn?”_   You slapped your hands over your face.

He laughed.  “Why ______, you’re blushing like a virgin.”  He faked a gasp.  “______, are you a virgin?”

“No, I’m not a friggin virgin!” You lowered your hands and glared at him, making sure to avoid looking at his TV.

“Then come watch with me.”  He patted the spot on the bed next to him.

“Isn’t there something in the Bible about not corrupting an angel?”

“Sweetheart,” he smirked.  “Have you forgotten who I am?”

“No,” you shook your head before edging closer to him.  “Just…isn’t this kinda weird?”

“It’s a perfectly natural behavior between two consenting adults.” He glanced from your face to the screen.  “Er–three adults.”

“Oh god.”

“Not hardly.”  He patted the bed again.  “So, you wanna watch or not?”

You rolled your eyes as you sat.  “There’s no way that…oh, shit.”  You tilted your head to the side, trying to make sense of what you were seeing.  “How does that even work?”

“Lots of lubricant.”

“That just can’t be comfortable.”  Your brow furrowed as you listened to the blissed out sounds the actress on the screen was making. 

“Hey,” Lucifer waited until you were looking at him.  “Wanna make out with me?”

You huffed.  “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Of course.”


	26. “She was crying, right there in the middle of the grocery store.” (Castiel)

You’d just finished putting your son down for a nap when you heard the car pull up in the driveway. Perfect timing. You could get your daughter down for her nap while your husband put away the groceries. Then, the two of you could have a peaceful afternoon.

“Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy!!!!” She was out of the car and running towards you before Cas even had a chance to get out.

Your eyes grew wide in alarm as soon as you had her in your arms. She was sticky. Her hands, face, crap–even her hair. And she was literally bouncing up and down in your hold.

You worked your jaw and looked at Cas. “What happened?”

“I had candy, Mommy.” She grinned proudly. “Daddy let me have all the candy I wanted. It was so good.”

“Great.” You forced a smile. “Guess who needs a bath, now.”

“No.” She pouted, and folded her little arms across her chest. “No bath. Wanna play.”

“You’ll wake up your brother if you’re too loud.”

“Ooooo–I wanna play with him!”

“I don’t think so, missy. Bath first. Then we’ll figure out something, since apparently nap time isn’t going to work today.” You glared over her shoulder at Cas.

.

“Noooooooooooo!”

“______?” 

You heard Cas calling you, voice laced with concern, but you had other things you needed to deal with first. Namely, the fact that your daughter had wiggled out of your hold and was now running through the house naked, screaming at the top of her lungs.

“Not right now, Cas!” You were chasing after her, but she’d managed to get ahead. After she ducked around a corner, you couldn’t figure out where she’d gone. 

The crying indicated that your son was now awake. So much for a peaceful afternoon.

“Cas!”

“Yes?”

You whirled around to face your husband. “Seriously, what happened to no sugar before nap-time?”

“I tried, ______.” His head hung in shame. “I really tried. But when I told her no, all of a sudden, she was crying, right there in the middle of the grocery store.” 

“Ugh!”

Your groan of frustration drew a giggle from your daughter, who was apparently hiding behind the couch. 

“Look, I’ll take care of her bath, while you take care of him, but then, you owe me. Big time.”

His shoulders sagged in relief. “Anything, I promise.”

You cocked an eyebrow and smirked. “Anything, huh?”


	27. “Don’t force my hand, you won’t like what happens.” and “How dare you.” and “Crocs? Who hurt you so much in this life?” (Lucifer)

Rage filled Lucifer’s eyes.  You were so dead.

“How dare you.”

“Luci, relax, would ya?  It’s just a prank.”  You fought to keep your giggles under control.  But really–the former fallen angel looked hilarious with the giant penis drawn on his forehead–right where his eyebrows _should_ have been.

“You are lucky I am without my full angelic powers, ______, or I would smite you where you stand.”

“And see, this–this is why I drew that on your face.  You are a big dick.”  You stuck your tongue out at him.

“I’m warning you, ______.  Don’t force my hand.” A– _ha_ –devilish glint shone from his eyes.  “You won’t like what happens.”

“Come on, Luci.  You think you can do anything to me that Gabriel hasn’t already tried?”

“Oh, I believe you’ll find I have several tricks up my sleeve.”

“Sure.”  You grinned and rolled your eyes.  “By the way, try an alcohol-wipe to get that off.”

He still continued to glare even as he moved towards the bathroom.

.

“Really?”  You stomped into the kitchen.  Well, maybe _stomped_ isn’t the right word.  Could someone really _stomp_ in some rubber-wannabe shoes?

“You know your shoes squeak when you walk?”  Lucifer didn’t even bother to look up from his breakfast.

“Man, this is just lame.”  You sat down next to him and put your feet on the table.  “I mean, come on.  Crocs?  Who hurt you so much in this life?”

“I believe you’ll find _all_ of your shoes have become that particular kind.”  He didn’t even bother to hide his smirk.

“So?”  You smiled.  “That just means I can’t go out on hunts until I get my boots back.  And if I can’t go out on hunts, that means I’m stuck here.  And if I’m stuck here, that just gives me more time to bug you.”  You mock-gasped.  “Is that what this is?  You’re just looking for a way for us to spend more time together?  Oh, Lucifer, I didn’t know you felt that way about me.”

Lucifer growled low in his throat before snapping his fingers.  Your boots were once again on your feet.  “Fine.”

“Thanks, Luce.”  You dropped your feet to the floor and leaned over to kiss his cheek.  “Better luck next time.”


	28. “Don’t force my hand, you won’t like what happens.” and “Game’s over you son of a bitch! Tell me where (s)he is!” and “Please don’t leave me.” (Michael)

Something shifted inside you, and you knew who’d just burst into the room.  Sure, you were still in the shadows, unable to visually confirm this feeling, but still, you knew.

“Game’s over, you son of a bitch!  Tell me where she is!” 

“Dean, it’s so good of you to join us.”  Michael smiled.

“Where’s my sister?”

“______?” Michael called. 

Warily, you stepped out, into the light.  “Dean.”

Now that you could see him, you could see the angel blade in his hand.  “Get behind me, ______.  I’m getting you out of here.”

“Why?” You cocked your head to the side.

“I believe Dean thinks I’m keeping you here against your will.”

You rolled your eyes at Michael.  “That’s silly.”

“______,” Dean snapped, then turned to Michael.  “What the hell have you done to her?”

“ _I_ have been taking care of her.  _I_ have been providing for her.”

“Bullshit!”

“He’s right, Dean.” You frowned.  “Michael found me months ago and has been taking care of me ever since.”

“He _kidnapped_ you, ______.  Snatched you from us while you were making a beer run.”

That wasn’t right.  He’d told you he’d found you, covered in blood and bruises.  Since then, he’d nursed you back to health, kept you safe.

“Stop, Dean.” You shook your head.  “Michael has been nothing but good to me.”

“Shit, he’s got you so brain-washed…what the hell did you do to her?”

“He’s done _nothing_ to me, Dean.”  You growled.  “Why don’t you just go?”

“I’m _not_ leaving you here with this monster.”  Dean grabbed your arm and yanked you to his side.

“Let me go!” You tried to push away from him, but he’d always been stronger than you.

“______, Sam’ll figure out a way to fix this.” Dean insisted.  Still, you struggled to free yourself.

“I believe you need to let your sister go.”  Michael moved to stand practically nose-to-nose with Dean.  “Don’t force my hand, Dean.  You won’t like what happens.”

“Yeah, I’m sure she’ll still love you if you kill her brother.” Dean scoffed.

“I’m not going to kill you, Dean.  But I won’t let you harm what’s mine.”

Dean’s grip on your arm tightened along with his grip on the angel blade.  “I don’t know what you did to her, but I’m taking her with me.”  He pressed the tip of the blade against Michael’s chest, halting the archangel’s movements.  Then, he began to drag you towards the door.

“No!” You shouted and struggled harder with every step he took.  Somehow, he made it to the door, you in tow.  “Dean, please!” You were crying now.  Everything in you screamed your need to be with Michael.  “Please, just let me go.”

“Damn it, ______.”  Dean tried to maneuver you outside, but you twisted and turned until you were finally free.

Frantically, you made a mad dash back to Michael.  “Please, don’t leave me.” You sobbed, throwing yourself into his arms.  “I’m so sorry.  Please–”

“Shhhh.” Michael waved his hand, sending Dean crashing outside.  Another flick of his wrist and you could hear the door slam shut.  “I’m not going anywhere.  And neither are you.”

“Thank you.” You were still crying as you buried your head against his chest.


	29. “Let’s face it–we’re cursed.” and “My ass?” (Balthazar)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: I was hoping you could write a drabble with prompt #12 & #146 with Balthazar and a dash of Charlie? Pretty please with a tied up Cas on top?
> 
> (I might have taken the request a little too literal :D Oh well)

The Winchesters were off on yet another hunt, leaving you and Charlie to man the Bat-Cave and the phone, just in case any last minute research was needed.  They’d promised to be home by yesterday, only to call and tell you they’d hit a snag and it would be at least another week before they’d be back.

Which meant they’d miss Christmas.

“Let’s face it–we’re cursed.”

Charlie looked up from her tablet.  “What?”

“Every time we try to have some sort of celebration around here, it gets ruined by some hunt.  If it’s not some hunt, then the demons are running amok.  If it’s not them, then the angels are being grade A assholes.“

A flutter of wings, and then “You rang?” Balthazar grinned as he appeared in the middle of the room.

“______’s bummed we’re not doing anything for Christmas this year.”

“Hey, do not harsh on my Christmas cheer, Charlie.” You pouted, folding your arms across your chest.

“Well, what if we were to do a little decorating?  Would that turn your frown upside down?”

“Did you swallow Mister Rogers or something?” You sputtered out, laughing at Balthazar.

“Just hate seeing you sad, darling.” He snapped his fingers, and suddenly, the room was completely covered in Christmas decorations.

Strings of lights were hanging from all of the bookshelves.  A holly wreath hung over the mantle of the fireplace he’d conjured up.  And in the corner of the room stood a giant fir tree that would make even Sam look tiny.  Garland and lights and tinsel and ornaments were all arranged to make it the perfect Christmas tree.

“Oh, Balthazar, this is beautiful!” You clapped your hands in delight.

“The only thing missing is the angel at the top of the tree.” Charlie pointed out, smirking at Balthazar.  “Best get your ass up there.”

“ _My_ ass?  Oh, love, I think not.  My ass is much too lovely to be perched on top of a tree.”

“What about Cas?”  You were swept up.

Balthazar laughed and snapped his fingers.  Cas appeared right next to you, tied up with multiple strands of lights and a Santa-cap shoved in his mouth.  “There’s our adorable little tree topper.”


	30. “How about we put the gun down and let’s talk about this?” and “So because he said you should, you thought it would be okay to follow through with it?” (Metatron and Castiel)

It had taken a lot of time and effort on your part, but you finally found him.  Weeks of tracking, following orders…orders you weren’t sure you believed in anymore.  But here he was.  And you had a job to do.

“Don’t move!” You screamed.

He immediately put his hands up in surrender.  “Whoa, ______.  How about we put the gun down and let’s talk about this?”

You could feel your resolve begin to crumble.  “I can’t.”  You could feel your bottom lip trembling.  

Did he really deserve this?  To be treated like some sort of criminal?  He’d only been trying to do what he thought was right.  Right?  

“Why are you doing this, ______?”

“I’m just…I have orders.”

“Orders?  From…” There was an edge to his voice that hadn’t been there before.  “So, because he said you should you thought it would be okay to follow through with it?  He’s not God, ______.”

“You think I don’t know that?”  Everything was so messed up.  This wasn’t how things were supposed to happen.  “I don’t know what to do.”

“I know you don’t, ______.  But killing me isn’t going to fix everything.  You know that.”

“I know…just…orders.”

“And you’re okay taking orders from Castiel?”

“I don’t know.” You finally lowered your weapon.  “I don’t want to kill you.  But if what he says is true–that it’s your fault we were all cast from Heaven–then you deserve it.”

“And you’re just going to believe him?” Metatron scoffed.  “Do you remember _his_ little stint as ‘God’ before unleashing the Leviathans on the world?”

You frowned.  That’s right.  Castiel _had_ taken all those souls from Purgatory only to masquerade as God before the Leviathans destroyed him.  Could he really be trusted?

“So, what’s it gonna be, ______?  You gonna follow those orders _Castiel_ gave you,” he practically spat the name out, “Or are you going to trust what you know to be true.  That all I’ve ever done has been for the benefit of Heaven.”


	31. “You should know that the side effects, well, they’re pretty intense.” and “Put your hand around my hip.” (Michael)

“NO!”

You weren’t sure who screamed.  It didn’t really matter.  It wasn’t like you were going to listen.  That stupid bastard, Metatron, was aiming his spell right at Michael, and you weren’t going to let that happen.

“______!”

The voices sounded so far off, now, like you were under water.  As soon as the magic hit you, you’d dropped to the floor, no longer in control of your own body.  Then, everything went dark.

.

“______?“

You blinked back to consciousness to find Michael leaning over you.  Judging by the softness at your back, you’d been placed on a bed.  “Where…?”

“We’re back at the bunker, ______.” 

“Are you OK?”

He glared at you.  “You want to know how I’m doing?  You jump in front of me and took Metatron’s spell, full-blast, and you want to know how _I’m_ doing?”

“Y-yeah?”

“You are infuriating, you know that?” he rolled his eyes.  “I’m fine.  How are you?”

You took a second to do a mental inspection of your body.  “Everything feels…heavy.  Is that supposed to happen?”

He sighed.  “The spell hasn’t taken full effect yet.  Based on the words he used, you should know that the side effects, well, they’re pretty intense.”

“And they are…?”

“Well, after the weakness you’re feeling leaves, you’ll experience the most intense pain of your life.  You’ll be begging for someone to just put you out of your misery.   Then,” he dropped his gaze to his hands.  

“Don’t leave me in suspense, Michael.

He drew in a shaky breath.  “Once you have…once the pain has passed, the final part of the spell will end your life, shortly thereafter.”  

The blood drained from your face.  The most powerful being in existence was sitting at the edge of your bed, telling you that your life was essentially over.

“I gonna die.”

He looked up at you, alarmed.  “I will not let you.”

“But,” you closed your eyes.  “There’s nothing we can do.”

“All of my brothers and sisters are working to find Metatron.  Dean and Sam are looking for a counter-spell.  We will reverse this, ______.”

You opened your eyes, a look of determination on your face.  “Then I’m going to help.”

“Help?  You can’t even get out of bed, let alone look for anyone.“

“I can try.”  You glared at him.  “Help me up.”

“______–”

“Help. me. up.”

Sighing, he began to lift you from the mattress.  “Where am I taking you?”

“You’re not _taking_ me anywhere.  You’re gonna _help_ me walk to the library.  I can lend a hand with the research.”

He huffed.  “Fine.”

Your feet touched the floor and you almost immediately fell.  

“You need to stay in bed.” 

“Just…put your hand around my hip.” You insisted, clinging weakly to him.  “We’ll get there.”  You tried to smile up at him when he finally did as you instructed.  “Don’t let go?”

He looked so solemn.  “Never.”

 


	32. “Stop taking pictures! I’m fucking stuck. Be useful and help me!!” and “Delete that immediately.” and “Kiss me.” and “You heard me. Take. It. Off.” and “Wanna dance?” (Lucifer)

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I’m serious.  Let me out!”

Oh, this was too good to pass up.  Some low level demon had summoned Lucifer and now he was trapped in a ring of holy fire.  It hadn’t taken you long to dispose of the demon trash, which made the whole situation that much funnier.

“______, I’m warning you!”

“What are you gonna do about it?” You had whipped out your phone and had started taking pictures of the scene.  “Don’t get too close to the fire.  You might singe some feathers.”

“Stop taking pictures! I’m fucking stuck. Be useful and help me!!”” his tone was nearing the level of annoyance you wanted to avoid, so you slipped your phone back in your pocket.  “Delete that immediately.”

“Do you want me to get you out or do you want me to mess with my phone some more?” You cocked an eyebrow.  

He sighed.  “Fine.”

You stared at the fire, trying to determine the best course of action.  “How am I supposed to put it out?”

“Water usually works well.” He rolled his eyes.

“You want me to leave to go get water?”  You watched him work your jaw and you knew you needed to end this, fast.  “Take off your jacket.”

“What?”

“You heard me.  Take it off.  We can use it to smother the flames.”

“It won’t put the fire out completely,” he griped even as he began to remove his coat.  “It has to die out entirely, or I’m liable to set my wings on fire.”

“I know that.  That’s why I want your pants, too.”  You missed the look of shock on his face as you worked to shimmy out of your own clothes.  “You throw yours over that side, and I’ll throw mine over this side, and hopefully, we can be done with this shortly.”

When you finally looked up, Lucifer was standing, completely naked, clothes bunched in his hands.  “Will this be enough?”

“I…um…” You looked down.  Even though you were still in your underwear, you knew he could see the blush that had started in your chest as was quickly heating your face more than the flames did.  “God, I need some Johnny Cash playing right now.”  You fell back to humor to avoid thinking about just how far you were willing to fall for this angel.

“Why do you need music?“

You laughed.  “‘Ring of Fire’?”  You kept your gaze down as you began to smother the fire.  “Shit.” You could feel the skin of your hand begin to blister from the flames before you could yank it out.

“What?”

“Nothing.” You choked out.  This hurt worse than a regular burn.  But what did you expect?  If it could keep an archangel at bay, it was bound to do some damage to a human.

“You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine.”  You tried to ignore the searing pain as you continued to smother the fire.  “Give me your clothes.”

Lucifer handed you the clothing, but his face held a look of worry.  “You’ve hurt yourself.”

“I’ve had worse.”  Actually, you hadn’t, but you weren’t about to tell him that.  You worked quickly, and soon, the fire was completely out.

“Close your eyes.” Lucifer directed.  Once you did, he pressed two fingers to your forehead.

Blinking, you realized he’d transported you to your room at the bunker.  You were both back in clothes, but your hand…shit, now that the adrenaline had worn off, the pain had you in tears.

“I can’t…I can’t heal this.  Holy fire damage is not something I can fix.”

“It–it’s OK, Luce.” You bit out, squeezing your eyes shut.

“No.  It isn’t.” He sighed and snapped his fingers.  You opened your eyes to see him holding a bucket of ice.  “This might help some.”

“T-thanks.”  Steam began to rise from your hand as you slid it into the ice.  “That…can’t be good.”

“Maybe this will help, too.”  He snapped again and this time, the sounds of Johnny Cash came from your speakers, earning a choked laugh from you.  “I’d ask if you wanna dance, but…uh…” He nodded towards your hand.  

“I’m OK.  Or, I will be, I think.” You wiped your eyes with the back of your free hand.

“I don’t think I thanked you for rescuing me.”

“It’s not–” he cut off your words with a kiss.  “Well, in that case, kiss me again, and we can call it even.”

“Oh, I think it’s going to take much more than one kiss before we’re even, ______.”

 


End file.
